


Morning After

by starwalker42



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Banter, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29615769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starwalker42/pseuds/starwalker42
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin: sweet, romantic morning after banter and fluff. Oh, and a piggyback.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Kudos: 65





	Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> This came out of three individual prompts from Tumblr:  
> "I'd do anything for you, despite how much you piss me off."  
> "I'll do it. If you do something for me."  
> 'Could you write a fic where Mulder's super smug because he literally fucked Scully so hard she can't walk properly'
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

When Mulder wakes that morning, Scully is still curled up against his chest, her tiny hand resting over his heartbeat and her legs entwined with his. The bedsheets that began the night wrapped around them both are now almost exclusively tucked around her, which is hardly surprising given how she tends to run cold. He, meanwhile, is the opposite, and Scully has been known to accuse him of being too warm- _you’re a furnace_ , she whispered one night as they cuddled in bed- though he knows she secretly appreciates it.

He’s never considered himself lazy before, but once Scully entered this part of his life he’s found the urge to stay in bed irresistible. He thought he knew everything there was to know about his partner, but like this he gets to study all the little things he’s never experienced before- the delicate flutter of her eyelashes before she wakes, her sleepy murmurs of contentment when he kisses her forehead, and the often hidden smattering of freckles across her porcelain skin. He loves being able to see her like this, so exposed and open, and he’s humbled that she’s given him the opportunity. He never wants to make her regret it.

As he watches, she stirs and her forehead creases a little as she comes to awareness. Mulder feels a smile break out on his face.

“Morning, sunshine.”

She mumbles something that might be his name as she sleepily paws at her eyes before settling back down, her breath tickling against his chest hair. Scully is not a morning person. She’s awake though, and that means he won’t accidentally rouse her when he gets out of bed.

“You want a coffee?” He already knows her answer, and she knows he knows, but he always asks anyway.

She nods and presses a kiss against his shoulder as she unwraps her legs from around his.

He wants nothing more than to stay in bed and watch her, to see every scrunch of her nose and every little yawn she makes as she enters the world of the waking, but his bladder has other ideas. Reluctantly, he rolls out of bed and heads to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of discarded boxers on the way. He’s washing his hands when he hears a bang from next door, followed by a quiet hiss of pain.

“Scully?”

“I’m fine,” she calls back, so he knows she’s not. “Just tripped.”

Well that doesn’t make any sense. He’s supposed to be the clumsy one. He peeks out of the bathroom and is greeted by the sight of a naked Scully sat on his bed, rubbing her foot as she winces.

“Sure you’re okay?”

“I stubbed my toe, Mulder, I didn’t break anything.” At his still-worried expression, she raises an eyebrow. “Who’s the doctor here?”

He raises his hands in surrender, and throws her his t-shirt from last night, the one she had pulled off of him so frantically he was worried she’d break the stitches.

“Just trying to help.”

“I think you’ve done enough.” It’s only a mutter, but he hears it, and when he glances at her in confusion her cheeks turn pink. “I said that out loud.”

“Yeah, you did. You going to explain yourself?” He puts a trace of the iron from last night into his voice, and feels a thrill of satisfaction when he sees her bite her lip and squirm a little.

She tugs the t-shirt over her head. “You’ll laugh at me.”

“Try me.”

She sighs in resignation, then gets to her feet. For a moment there’s nothing that seems wrong… and then she takes a few steps. Well, they might be better classed as stumbles. She’s walking with her legs further apart than usual, and when he realises why he’s biting his lip to try and hide his smile. Of course, it doesn’t work, not on his best friend.

“I told you you’d laugh.”

“But you’re… Scully, you’re actually _waddling_.” He tries not to laugh, he really does, but the seriousness on her face and the ridiculous way she’s walking is a contrast he can’t help but find funny.

She rolls her eyes.

“Come on,” he turns away from her and crouches. “I’ll piggyback you to the kitchen.”

“I _can_ walk,” she insists as she climbs on. “I’m just sore.”

He knows it makes him a terrible person, and an even worse partner, but he feels a burst of pride. It’s something primitive, he guesses, that makes him feel so smug- he’s marked her, his woman, marked her as _his_ , and now she’s clinging to his back, wearing his shirt. He doesn’t realise he’s smirking until he feels Scully dig her heel against his hip.

“If you laugh again I’m leaving.”

“I wasn’t going to laugh _at_ you.” He ducks through the bedroom door, careful not to let her bang her head. She’s not used to the threat of doorframes. “I was laughing at my primeval pride.”

“I hate to disagree with your male ego, but it isn’t something to be proud of.” She’s gone into doctor mode and he feels his cock jump in interest. “Soreness after sex usually happens because there’s not enough lubrication.”

Through another doorway, and he lets her slither of his back onto the floor as he heads for the coffee machine.

“You weren’t complaining last night.” He reminds her over his shoulder. His cock gets a little harder at the memories of exactly what she _did_ say last night- his name moaned over and over into a pillow, the word _harder_ getting louder and more demanding every thrust… _okay buddy, enough of that._ “Is it a sugar kind of morning?” He asks instead.

She doesn’t answer, just stands there in his kitchen looking royally pissed, but with her hair a messy halo, his shirt hanging past her knees, and her bare toes tapping on the tile, it’s not as effective as it normally is. Instead, she looks downright adorable. He loves this Scully.

Uh oh. He’s smirking again.

“Mulder, shut up.”

“Okay, I’m sorry, I will.” Then he has a thought. “If you do something for me.”

The look on Scully’s face is one he’s been very well acquainted with over the years, but there’s a ghost of a smile there too. He really, really loves this Scully.

“I’d do anything for you.” She says it as a joke, but he knows it’s true. “Despite how much you piss me off.”

“Kiss me?”

The ghost of a smile fully materialises. “I say I’d do anything and you ask for a kiss?”

“I’m a simple man,” he shrugs as he turns back to pour the coffee.

Scully’s arms snake around his waist, and the warmth of her lips against his spine spark a gentle warmth in his chest. “You’re my man.”

He loosens her grip and turns to face her, leaning down for his kiss. “Always.”

She gives it to him. “Always,” she agrees.


End file.
